Savage Mafia Kings

Prologue

LORENZO

Six Years Ago…

“Sienna!” Anger sizzled beneath my skin, dancing and yanking all of my muscles tight. I tried rolling my neck to get rid of that pulling, but there was only one way I was getting any kind of release tonight: buried inside my wife. “Sienna!”

Where the fuck is she?

I stalked through the darkened house, up the main staircase to the second floor, trying to breathe through my rage all the while. Sienna usually waited up for me when I had meetings with my father. I didn’t usually begrudge her going to bed before me, but today, I needed her.

Our bedroom door was ajar, and I pushed it wide. “Sien—” The smell of copper and meat stopped me. The scent was thick; it coated my tongue and made me gag as I ran my hand over the wall for the light switch.

Fuck.

Everything was spattered in red: the floor, the walls.

Our bed was soaked. In the middle of all that red was Sienna.

She looked like a broken doll, limbs akimbo as if she’d been tossed and forgotten.

Her skin was gray; her eyes were open, staring at nothing.

I couldn’t pretend that she was sleeping or convince myself that she was somehow still alive. She was gone.

My throat threatened to close on itself.

Shaking, I walked toward the bed. I didn’t want to see what had happened…

but I couldn’t shut my eyes to it either.

Closer to the bed, it became clear that someone had taken a knife to her.

She’d been shredded. I reached out and brushed some of the hair away from her face; she’d always smiled when I did that.

There was no sweet smile now. Instead, her skin was cool beneath my fingertips.

The pounding in my head grew loud. Vaguely, I heard a deep, guttural roar—raw and uncontrollable.

I knew that it was me, but I couldn’t make it stop.

Sienna was everything to me. She was that one-in-a-million love that people go to the movies to see.

And now she was just…gone. The light in her was snuffed out, and what the fuck was I supposed to do now?

I sank to my knees beside the bed. The blood on the floor soaked into my pants; it was cool and thick, and bile rose in my throat.

Fuck.

I heard a creak behind me and I stilled. Then there was the sound of feet on the floorboards, and I turned. Francis, my second-in-command and cousin, stood in the doorway drenched in blood. Sienna’s blood. In his hand, there was a blade.

If he had been trying to protect her from someone else, he would be dead.

Fucking traitor. I launched myself at him with a bellow, slamming into him full-force.

The blade flashed in the bedroom light, and I felt something like fire sinking into my side, but it didn’t matter.

The only thing that mattered was making him hurt the way that I was hurting.

I wrapped my hands around his throat and squeezed, relishing the gasps and gurgles that came from his throat as he tried to breathe. I slammed his head into the floor over and over, squeezing harder until I felt something pop. Consciousness slid from his eyes. His lips were turning blue.

It wasn’t enough.

He went limp, and I reached for the hunting blade that he’d stuck into my side.

Gritting my teeth, I pulled it out. The pain spread, and my back grew wet, but I wasn’t going to stop.

I ripped into him again and again, slicing his flesh into ribbons and coating myself in his blood.

He was dead, but I couldn’t stop. I wouldn’t stop.

Nothing could slake the bloodlust running through me.

It wasn’t until Francis’s viscera was all over the bedroom floor that I ran out of steam. The anger and pain were gone; instead, numbness started in my gut and worked its way through my body, filling me from the inside out. Even when I glanced at Sienna, still and broken on the bed, I felt nothing.

Good. Feeling nothing was better. I stood, calm now, and walked out of the room without looking back.